started to rain    our o ter of ttle jig to drive ts, and t inside.

        e sat in a pear and I stared up at ted ceiling until I made myself dizzy.

        ‘tell me about    it?“

        ‘I knoold me,“ ell you t. And of course tance.“

        ‘You ance?“

        ‘Yes. It’s not    an inance, but all t, I could s to you later.“

        ‘t would be nice.“

        ‘Yes… Because I    too adjat to breakfast for cake, isn’t it?“ It ant grimace t turned into a gleam    , Invite Margaret back for elevenses. Cake and coffee,    sound? You could do a time.    little to see.“

        I accepted tation.

        Aurelius took    and began to polisly h a handkerchief.

        ‘ell no old to me. Mrs. Love, and ory.“

        tled into passive rality, a sign t, in torytellers, o make ory itself. And ted, and from     t of    was Mrs. Love I ory.

        ory, and Aurelius’s, and also, perhaps, Emmeline’s.

        tigorm . Iops tling, and it    to break tting in t    turning t a s t I    of fire t I’d broug afternoon, and I’d only just put anot cold, not at all, but I t to myself,    a nig some poor soul caugdoors a    poor soul as made me shiver.

        Everyt indoors, only ten, and tting needles, and my sig o remembering, and t’s a bad    for a y. I’d got a ent? Not I. So t sig ing. After a time I got up to fetcry, nid mature, fed    e turned over. Do you kno sock twice!

        No bot really botter, not slapdaser Kitty used to be, nor     mistake twi my life.

        t time I turned a oo often ting by an open     tell you e dresses and    of nonsense like t. And all of a sudden I looked do I’d tur , a    and t loud. It didn’t matter. Easy enougo undo it and put it right.

        I’d already dra ’s up , all of a e, and topped dead te s’s    a trouble for    for me. S s even say my name. S s.

        t.    er some grouse.    ougo o to tile first and oo y.    caugile. akeeps ing after t t o spell it out, do I? You    guess ened.

        I undid my knitting. All ttle knots t you make oer moto knit a sock, I undid t’s easy. take t, a little tug and t fall apart. Oer anotra    kept going. t, t    to unravel, only a pile of kled blue wool in my lap.

        It doesn’t take long to knit a sod it takes a lot less to undo it.

        I expect I o a ball to make somet I don’t remember t.

        time I turned a o get old. Kitty aing by toget ting so mucter, I t. Saking an i in t    ting—a nice pair of bed socks it ty, softest lambs’ o go     it, tur wice.”

        I . “ell, I’m blowed,” I said.

        S ting, s be surprised. Surning ting to turn at all. More tted a sock for    a leg and a toe. e laug s me, s    like me to be so absentminded.

        ‘ell,“ I said, ”I ake before. Only t I’ve just told you. All about my young man. And arted to put it rigakes a bit of tration, and t    s alking about my loss all t by parison.

        It oo dark to finisoe properly, so I put it aside and looked up. “Kitty?” I said. “Kitty?” t t be asleep. But s.

        So be back ime I’d been peering at t bed so ttering aory, so him.

        So it bot nigco find t I’d knitted a sed    and lost my young man. t my sister. Noime. I    to lose. there was only me now.

        I looked at t    for me.

        Per didn’t matter, I told myself. o miss me? No one    er all, at least I’d    like my young man. And also I remembered tty’s face, t    be so bad, I t.

        I set to unraveling tra     of t, you mig    to be found . “Silly old ting in ? Surned     t. So I undid it. And as I o go, in my mind.

        I don’t kno. But eventually a noise found its o my ear. From out-of-doors. A cry, like some lost animal. I s, not expeg anyto e no first I paid no notice. But I    again. It seemed to be calling me. For uck out    per , lost its moto meet my maker, ttle cat, s    fur, kept distrag me. And I t, Just because I’m dying, t’s no reason to deny one of God’s creatures a bit of o eat. And I migell you, I didn’t mind t of ure by me rig t moment. So I    to the door.

        And here?

        tucked in t of tten. Poor little mite. Cold and    and    doe you saopped g.

        I didn’t linger outdoors. You ed feeding and some dry t stop long in t a quick look. Not all. Just tling trees at to toward Angelfield?

        I clute, came inside and closed the door.

        ted to me. time, and it    came to t taug to go reading too muco ces. I ime to be t deater t, anyway.

        I o t.

        And we lived er.

        Aurelius sion;    imes as a boy, repeated inside himself for decades as a man.

        ory emplating tar. Outside tio fall, unill as a statue by my side, yet s, I suspected,    quiet.

        ts of t    I said not ed for o return to t in ime. o me.

        ‘t’s not my story, is it? I mean, I’m in it, t’s obvious, but it’s not my story. It belongs to Mrs. Love. ted to marry; er Kitty; ting.    is ory. And t o an end, I arrive and give tory a .

        ‘But t doesn’t make it my story, does it? Because before s… before—“

        ed, breature to cut off end start again:

        ‘Because for someoo find a baby like t, just find    in t means t before t to y—“

        Anotic erasiure of t t    o say:

        ‘Because if Mrs. Love fou    only mean t before t    have—“

        t    verb.

        o despair. ated gesture, ed in an attitude t suggested a plea or a prayer.

        times ely t you , as them like a book. I read Aurelius.

        Do not abandon me.

        touco atue returo life.

        ‘t ing for to stop,“ I    for tos    . e may as well go.“

        ‘Yes,“ . ”e may as well.“
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